As we reflect on the fall of the Assad regime, and join our Syrian comrades in deep witness of their years of struggle—the liberation of prisoners from death camps, the reunification of families, the possibility of return for exiled Syrians, and all the complex ranges of emotions being held—Mizna presents an essay by Syrian theatre professor and artist Sami Ismat, reflecting on the future of Syria, its diaspora, and the broader Bilad al-Sham, through mediations on architecture, literature, and the collective-oriented values underpinning these artistic traditions.

—George Abraham, Editor-at-Large

“But the immense neglect and physical destruction of these places along the societal fabric puts doubt in whether the new free Syria, with its new and varied diasporic community, can reclaim a healthy and thriving society with a collectivist living philosophy. It is a challenge that requires utopian imaginings as well as forms of expression and commemoration of the sacrifices and displacement faced by the people.”

—Sami Ismat

The Levantine “Bilad al-Sham” diaspora has been facing waves of forced and often violent displacement that carry much loss and grief. As with many diasporic communities, the “Shami” diaspora is neither monolithic nor static. The vibrancy of this particular diaspora has allowed it to thrive in many diverse regions, extending to both of the Americas. In the search for connection within an increasingly isolated and individualistic society, a pervasive sense of collectivist nostalgia takes hold: a longing for a past that exists only within memorabilia and in past personal experiences, specifically, a profound longing for the architectural splendor of historic Levantine cities.  The new Syrian diaspora is a prime example of this phenomenon, with the romanticization of cities like Damascus, Homs, Hama, and Aleppo emerging as a defining feature within the diasporic consciousness. While ample documentation focuses on the destruction aspect of Syria and the crisis under the fallen Assad regime, this essay will examine forms of expression among Syrians about how the architecture of lived spaces reflects the collectivist-oriented nature of the Levantine “Shami” people.  While there are a variety of iconic figures, such as Nizar Qabbani, who historically wrote about Damascus, this piece will instead shed light on those who expressed cultural identity with ties to architecture under the shadow of the recent Syrian crisis during the past 14 years. 

To understand where these forms of expression stem from, we need to examine the type of longing common among the new Syrian diaspora. The type of longing that extends beyond mere aesthetic appreciation or recognition of the historical value of architecture; it reflects a deep-seated connection to our cultural heritage, rituals, and lives. Syrian architect Marwa Al-Sabouni eloquently articulates this sentiment in her book The Battle for Home: “architecture offers a mirror to a community, and in that mirror we can see what is wrong and also find hints as to how to put it right.” ¹ Through this lens, we not only behold the beauty of our architectural legacy but also discern the underlying challenges and injustices that afflict our society. Al-Sabouni is not the only author to reflect upon this idea. Suad Amiry’s memoir My Damascus vividly portrays the significance of a single house in early 1900s Damascus, underscoring the role of architecture—specifically the courtyard house—in shaping the lives of the elite Syrian Baroudi family. This focus on a single house that cannot be revisited encapsulates the deep feelings of  “hiraeth” that permeate the Syrian diaspora. Hiraeth is a Welsh word that lacks a direct English translation. At its root, hiraeth conveys a deep homesickness for a bygone era that can never be fully reclaimed; in Arabic, it would be best described by the phrase “الشوق إلى أماكن ضائعة” which translates to longing to lost places. The word hiraeth is referenced in an interview by Syrian American artist Mohamed Hafez, who expands upon this concept with his work that visually attempts to express what has been lost and stored in the diasporic memory. Since the onset of the protests in Syria in 2011, followed by mass displacement and exile, hiraeth has become a constant feeling in the collective consciousness of Syrians as they hold nostalgia and trauma in their memory.

Photo courtesy of Mohamad Hafez

 Prior to diving deeper, it is important to acknowledge that the described feeling captures a significant aspect of our diasporic experience. However, the feeling of longing for lost places alone cannot fully capture the breadth of our emotions and experiences of diaspora. Syrian-American storyteller, lyricist and poet Omar Offendum, reflecting on his experience at the Shangri La Museum of Islamic Art, Culture & Design, articulates the intricate complexities of emotions evoked by encounters with Syrian architectural heritage at the museum. Offendum shares: 

To be honest I was a little bit hesitant at first about digging deeply into the feelings that are evoked when I walk into some of these spaces, I am so far removed from their original context, [at] the same time there is another layer knowing that a lot of these spaces are just not safe anymore in their original context and so you’re kind of happy that they’re this far away from them [the contexts] but that’s a very difficult thing to wrestle with, specifically Syria and the Syrian rooms here. ²

This expression underscores the complex interplay between destruction and beauty, trauma and utopian nostalgic imaginings. Architecture guides our expression and remembrance; we not only honor our past through it but also share our deep longing for lived moments that shaped us within these places. The architecture of the places we left behind helps us preserve our narratives, and it shapes our living philosophy and values, which are collectivist-oriented and based in communal care.  

For many in the Syrian diaspora, the longing for lost places symbolizes a unity they experienced or remember. However, for over 50 years, the (now fallen) Assad dictatorship damaged this unity. The writings of Yassin Al-Haj Saleh expose the contemporary history of the policies of the Syrian regime that led to the loss of a unified Syrian state and people, as the fallen regime created rifts through aggressive nepotism to divide, instill fear, and maintain control through oppressive sectarianism. Al-Haj Saleh in his book The Impossible Revolution states: “sectarianism does not inevitably stem from inherited cultural differences, since those have always existed in every society, but is rather the outcome of social and political privileges. Sectarianism is essentially a tool for governing and a strategy for control.” ³ The regime has systematically developed methods to divide Syrian society through neglecting certain communities and privileging certain individuals, thus creating isolated communities and ruining the ancient social fabric that was based on collectivist morals of sharing and caring for one another regardless of background, ethnicity, or religion. Unfortunately, the Syria remembered by most has been neglected and physically destroyed, and along with that, the civic belonging of Syrians to Syria has been severed among many, including culturally. Those who stayed in Syria have been forced to abandon their basic moral values to get by and survive, or have resorted to becoming informants for the fallen Assad regime for self-gain.

These systemic actions became ingrained and contributed to dismantling the existing networks of social relations and structures, resulting in the degradation of shared cultural values within the average Syrian human, thus guiding individuals toward morally corrupt actions. The harm of these systemic policies and actions moved in tandem with the destruction of the old historic architecture of cities and their intentional urban planning, which was ruined through decades of neglect and indiscriminate bombing. Al-Sabouni provides a detailed account of the regime’s policies and their impact, particularly on the urban and moral fabric, stating that: “The undoing of the urban fabric has advanced hand in hand with the undoing of the moral fabric. And that is written in frightful scars on the face of Old Homs.” ⁴ These frightful scars etched on the face of the city serve as a poignant reminder of the interconnectedness between physical and moral decay under oppressive regimes. Architecture is culture and, upon closer examination, it becomes apparent that this idea holds true not only for Syria but for many societies worldwide, as suggested by Clifford Geertz: “Culture is the fabric of meaning in terms of which human beings interpret their experience and guide their action; social structure is the form that action takes, the actually existing network of social relations.” ⁵

Photo courtesy of Bayt Al Fann

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While it’s undeniable that Syrian people, like any society, have their share of beautiful traditions, rituals, and values with all sorts of complex variations, including negative implementations, the last decade for Syria in particular has witnessed a notable disconnection from a collectivist-oriented approach that center communal values of sharing and caring for the collective. Such values that have an intertwined connection with our architecture—specifically to the courtyard houses—which make up the core of what a traditional Syrian home is and serve as a space for co-existence and participation in communal rituals based on values of caring and sharing. Renowned Egyptian architect Abdelwahed El-Wakil famously says, “I always say a house without a courtyard is like a man without a soul. The courtyard is the soul of the house. Not only this, it is the protagonist, because the rooms are built around the court.” ⁶ On a wider scale, this concept is even common in underprivileged rural communities in Syria and smaller homes where many members share one common room for everything and spend many hours of the day in it. The latter statement does not intend to romanticize poverty nor to endorse living underprivileged, but rather to describe that these living spaces in all their variations have a commonality that create a sense of critical closeness where one’s actions and values must adhere to the collective in a space as an everyday living situation. Al-Sabouni’s book underscores the intrinsic connection between the lost collectivist morality and the architectural heritage of Syria. Similarly, Amiry’s semi-fictional memoir provides a transparent portrayal of Syrian society, focusing on the rich architectural tapestry of old Damascus from the late 1800s to the present day. In her narrative, Amiry masterfully intertwines the story of Syrian society with the grandeur of the elite Baroudi family home. From the intricately designed living rooms to the serene sleeping quarters, every aspect of the architecture serves a collective purpose, with each room meticulously crafted to accommodate specific rituals or activities at designated times throughout the week in the family’s life. ⁷ The sociologist Émile Durkheim coined the term “collective effervescence,” which is described as a constant emotional commitment to a group and its moral framework, with rituals serving to uphold and strengthen bonds. ⁸ There is a seamless weaving between architecture, ritual, and communal life in influencing societal values that center on collective identity.

Within these lived spaces, Syrian families confronted a myriad of challenges, be they economic, political, or personal. The courtyard concept of these homes taught generations and served as a vibrant reminder of the shared bonds within Syrian families that translated to the larger society. For in these courtyards, the calls to prayer from mosques mingled harmoniously with the tolling of church bells, underscoring the religious and ethnic diversity of Syria. Amiry’s familial narrative further emphasizes this diversity, with her grandmother being indigenous Palestinian and her grandfather of Turkish descent, with the grandfather’s infidelity within the narrative highlighting the complexity of individual lives against the backdrop of communal coexistence. This collectivist environment inevitably confronts any ill actions sooner or later, as Amiry’s story leads the patriarch of the family to lose his grandeur position within the family. Despite these imperfections, personal struggles, and questionable individual choices, the urban fabric of old Syrian cities genuinely exuded a welcoming generosity, ethno-religious diversity, humbling care, and a confrontational sense of accountability that is nearly inescapable, epitomizing the social cohesion of Syrian society at large for generations. 

But the immense neglect and physical destruction of these places along the societal fabric puts doubt in whether the new free Syria, with its new and varied diasporic community, can reclaim a healthy and thriving society with a collectivist living philosophy. It is a challenge that requires utopian imagings as well as forms of expression and commemoration of the sacrifices and displacement faced by the people. Being trapped solely in past feelings and nostalgic memories poses a danger of getting stuck in an over-glorified past that is removed from the current reality. The work of Mohamed Hafez finds this balance, through his miniature architectural sculptures, which mostly feature homes from Syria. Hafez has showcased his works internationally, using memorabilia, pictures, and audio recordings of people’s lived experiences. Hafez complements the visual intricacy of the sculptures and the stories within them by adding in atmospheric sounds of the places. The artwork is both motivated by the concept of hiraeth or long lost places, and is centered around storytelling that attempts to bridge the beauty of the lost past to the present, but without ignoring or forgetting the scars from modern Syrian history

Hafez’s artistic journey began with his personal experience of loss, which evolved into a profound exploration of the narratives of refugees. The “UNPACKED: Refugee Baggage” project involved the meticulous sculptural recreation of rooms from the communal home environments that refugees (not exclusively Syrian) were forced to flee. Collaborating with Iraqi-born writer and speaker Ahmed Badr, in capturing and editing the real stories of these displaced families, Hafez and Badr approached this project in an ethnographic documentary style, giving a tangible meaning to the visual sculptures. ⁹ Each miniature sculpture in this series is framed by a symbolic suitcase, representing the emotional baggage and memories carried by refugees into their diaspora. Ornate objects are intricately woven into the architectural design of old Syrian homes and serve as visual symbols of cultural heritage and containers of history for entire civilizations.

In Hafez’s artworks, the memories of the recent Syrian diasporic communities (since the protests of 2011) are powerfully brought to life through this audiovisual medium, externalizing nostalgic memory and allowing it to express itself, but without ignoring the painful losses, sacrifices, and destruction in these spaces, which are rendered visible and feel viscerally innate. Each miniature sculpture serves as a snapshot of a forcibly abandoned life, surrounded by the turmoil of army vehicles, cracks, or bullet holes. These evocative representations become reminders and windows into the rich tapestry of heritage, identity, and collectivist-oriented living that centers communal sharing, caring, and confronts us to be accountable for our actions. Across generations, diasporic communities somehow tend to find a shared sense of belonging and understanding, transcending geographical boundaries and trauma to form an imagined community rooted in a complicated past and a cultural nostalgia. 

Photo courtesy of Mohamad Hafez

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The exploration of the Syrian diasporic memory reveals the rich intertwined nature of architecture’s role in shaping the social/cultural aspects of the Syrian identity. Authors like Marwa Al-Sabouni and Suad Amiry provide invaluable insights into the significance of architecture as a reflection of societal values and communal life. Through their works, we witness how the destruction of physical spaces mirrors the unraveling of moral fabric within Syrian society, exacerbated by the fallen regime’s policies that exploit sectarianism for control, ultimately eroding the social cohesion that once defined Syria. However, underlying this devastation, there are glimpses of a shared consciousness and a resilient preservation of collectivist values that is driven by the utopian and nostalgic imaginings granted by the new Syrian diaspora and the Syrian revolution. The new Syria needs projects like “UNPACKED: Refugee Baggage” that meticulously recreate the environments and narratives of displaced Syrians who sacrificed much and are trying to find the means to reconnect with their roots, bridging the chasm between past and present, exile and belonging, in a Syria liberated from the fallen regime and its corruptions. These artworks become vessels fostering a sense of solidarity and pride in the struggle endured by Syrians dispersed across the globe, attempting to reconnect with their cultural heritage and to work with the local community that remained inside Syria to build a new society inspired by its architectural history and modern struggles. 

Author acknowledgement: While this essay primarily centers on the experiences of the new Syrian diaspora communities, it is imperative to acknowledge the broader historical contexts, including the enduring impacts of colonialism and other catastrophes in Levantine history. Further research could delve into how colonial legacies persistently shape diasporic identities and architectural heritage. Understanding how colonial interventions molded urban landscapes and architectural styles in Syria and the Levant can unveil profound layers of meaning embedded within these spaces. Nevertheless, the subjectivity of collective memory does not diminish the notion that, in the face of complexities, displacement away from our architectural environments brings solace and strength. Hope for a brighter future can be found and expressed in various other forms, such as art and literature, to uphold our sense of belonging to collectivist-oriented moral values. 

Sami Ismat is a Research-Practitioner in Performance & Theatre from Damascus, Syria. Currently, he is an Assistant Professor at Columbia College Chicago. His interdisciplinary artistic practice integrates performance art, devised theatre, documentary techniques, ethnographic research, filmmaking, and choreography. Sami has collaborated internationally as writer, director, creator, performer, collaborator, and consultant on diverse projects spanning major theaters and museums to street performances and unconventional spaces. Additionally, Sami is a semi-professional soccer coach, currently serving with Edgewater Castle FC.

His research explores Syrian identity, diaspora, and Arab representations in performance, including investigations of Islamic art and ritual. Through performance, he examines the dynamics of presentation and representation, particularly concerning war-torn landscapes, trauma, loss, grief, memory, and collective cultural consciousness.

Sami’s publications include several theatrical production reviews in Arab Stages journal, “Deconstructing Myths via Performance Strategies” in Deconstructing the Myths of Islamic Art, anda forthcoming book chapter, “Postcolonial Dramaturgies and Dialogic Practices: Embodied Approaches to Contemporary Theatre Dramaturgy” in Decolonizing Dramaturgy in Global Contexts.

1. Marwa Al-Sabouni, The Battle for Home: The Memoir of a Syrian Architect, (London: Thames & Hudson, 2017).
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2.  Omar Offendum, Omar Offendum Shangri La Artist-in-Residence, Video, October 9, 2018, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YaFRQZs32x0.
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3.  Yassin Al-Haj, The Impossible Revolution: Making Sense of the Syrian Tragedy (Chicago: Haymarket Books, 2017). Pg. 23.
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4.  Al-Sabouni, The Battle for Home. ︎
5.  Clifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures, 2000th ed. (New York: Basic Books, 1973). ︎
6. Caravane Earth. 2022. “Documentary: Architect Abdelwahed El-Wakil.” YouTube video, 30:14. Posted November 25, 2022. ︎
7.  Suad Amiry, My Damascus, (Northampton, USA: Olive Branch Press, 2016). Pg. 37. ︎
8.  Émile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, trans. Karen Fields (New York: Free Press, 1995)
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9.  Mohamed Hafez, Unpacked: Refugee Baggage, 2017, Mixed Media, 2017. ︎

The post Beyond Ruins: Exploring Architectural Nostalgia in Syrian Diasporic Art and the Resilience of Utopian Imaginings appeared first on Mizna.